


Iutycyr

by L56895



Category: Final Fantasy X-2
Genre: F/M, Post-Game, post last mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 14:19:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L56895/pseuds/L56895
Summary: Post Final Mission. Paine contemplates how the past and future can come together.





	Iutycyr

_There_ _’s something I needed to do first._

__

Iutycyr Tower diminished beneath them. Its floors, which had seemed so improbable from the bottom, squatted below the Celsius as Paine pushed the throttle to take them back to mainland Spira. At the console to her right Yuna was trying to placate Brother through the comm, clearly they had underestimated just how angry he would be with them borrowing the ship.

 

On her other side Rikku was melancholic. They all knew that this would probably be the final chance they would have to see one another for some time. Yuna was determined to return to Besaid for her quiet life with Tidus. Rikku would be back to involving herself in the business of all of Spira and Paine… well… Paine knew that she belonged to a life that had been robbed from her a long time ago.

 

The comm cut off and Yuna stretched out and back against the chair, glanced up at her and smiled.

 

“Did you do what you needed to do, Paine?” she asked and Paine silently cursed her for being so perceptive.

 

“I think so,” she said softly, gripping the handles of the steering mechanism tighter, “Doesn’t mean I’m ready for what comes next.”

 

“You deserve to be happy, Paine,” Yuna leant over and touched her arm, “But sometimes happiness doesn’t come easy.”

 

Paine nodded but said nothing. She knew well enough how hard to reach happiness was. It was a stolen moment with a sunset backdrop before blood, and agony, and tears that just wouldn’t break through the pain. Even in her moment of vulnerability on their way up the Tower she had held some things back. The feel of his hands around her, damp tears on her face and the sound of a broken man’s cries. It was a memory she had shared with no one, not even Nooj, but it had kept her awake through years of confusion and heartbreak.

 

~

 

Later, she slotted the key in to the door to her rooms at Luca, felt the familiar tension of the mechanism before the door swung open. Nooj had used his considerable influence to arrange for her to have some private rooms, it being the first place she’d had to call home since she lived as a temple orphan many years ago. She’d furnished it sparingly, unsure of whether it would ever feel like a home, but now the sight of her comfy chaise, the thick woollen blanket she had found at Kilika market thrown over the back of it, made her feel, finally, like she belonged. Behind the chaise was the balcony that had been her favourite part of the room when Nooj handed her the keys. She’d let her guard down and embraced him when he’d shown her the view of the ocean that first night, felt his arms come up and around her before she’d come to her senses and pulled away. The mood had grown sombre afterwards, he had nodded politely to her and bade her goodnight, but her love of the view had grown stronger despite her confused feelings.

 

She and Nooj had danced around one another until the guys left on their tour of Spira. Some nights they had found solace in sitting together and reminiscing about the past, until his eventual confession about the Highroad had opened the wound of betrayal. He was, thankfully, careful and patient with her. Never pushing too far, his sense of diplomacy making him uncharacteristically in tune with her feelings. But nevertheless, he kissed her forehead when they said goodbye, joked that she should stay out trouble. And, of course, that she would see him later. Still, she had bitten her lip and refused to yield to feelings. That had been three weeks ago now and she had heard very little from any of them.

 

The past month had been a lonely one. Sure, after the defeat of Vegnagun she had travelled alone for some time. But after reuniting with her old friends, only to find herself alone again as they travelled to make amends, she felt in limbo. The Iutycyr adventure was meant to make her feel apart of something again, but the effect was short lived and, as she curled up in her balcony chair to look out for any signs of approaching ships- belts and leathers slung over the back and boots thrown on the floor- she felt the oncoming of tears prickling her eyes.

 

Rikku had been wrong when she said Paine only cared about herself. In some ways she cared too much about too few people. Losing them before had been almost unbearable, but refusing to give herself openly to relationships now was painful too. Even Baralai seemed oddly distant to her. Gippal had fallen back in to his easy way of teasing her, but without the closeness of Nooj and Baralai she felt like an outside in their group again.

 

A sudden rap on the door forced her to unfurl and scrub at her eyes with the back of her hand. The door swung open, Elma wasn’t great at notions of privacy when she was excited, and Paine watched her hop from foot to foot with a slight jolt to the heart.

 

“Did you hear?” she was practically vibrating against the door frame, “Their ship is on its way here as we speak. Nooj sent word that they would be back tonight.” Whatever she said next passed Paine by, too absorbed in thinking about how little time she had to prepare for their arrival.

 

After Elma had closed the door behind her Paine gathered up her blanket and stood in front of the mirror. She looked drawn, tired and in no state to be welcoming her friends home. But what protection did excuses give any more? Maybe it was time to take a leap of faith.

 

She picked up the keys that the guys had given her when they left- for emergencies, Gippal had said with a wink- and pulled her blanket closer around her. Nooj’s rooms were close down the hall and, pausing to check that the corridor was clear, she let herself in and pulled the door quietly shut behind her.

 

Not bothering to reach for the light, she fell on to the bed and curled up on top of the sheets, her body heavy and exhausted. The bed hadn’t been slept in in weeks but Paine could imagine that the scent of him still clung to the sheets. She had been here once since she had moved to Luca, in a moment of weakness where he had taken her to his bed and she’d opened her arms to him. His hands had explored, unbuckled, and his lips followed but when he paused at the scar on her chest, the puckered gunshot wound that had been so expertly sewn up by the Al Bheds all that time ago, she had panicked and fled, leaving him bereft on the bed.

 

They hadn’t spoken of it since. He had welcomed her the next morning to breakfast casually, only the briefest flash of hurt crossing his face. She wanted, so badly, to hate him for being so __okay__ , all the time. But then in their quiet moments she watched him, saw his mouth become more drawn and his face more tired. Sometimes, she wanted nothing more than to crawl in to his lap and kiss him, coax away the pain and make them one again.

 

If she were Yuna perhaps she would be able to slot back in to the past easily. If she were Barthello, maybe she could put differences after romance. Instead she was pragmatic, jaded and haunted. But, maybe, she could begin to put happiness first.

 

~

 

Paine opened her eyes to the dim light of a bedside lamp and the feel of a heavy hand against her hip. Nooj was smiling, wry amusement in his eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed next to her. She disentangled herself from the blanket she had dragged from her rooms and pushed herself up against the headboard.

 

“No need to get up on my account,” Nooj said kindly and she blushed, pulled the blanket around her bare shoulders. Where she’d shifted his hand had come to rest on her thigh and he gave her a gentle squeeze through the fabric.

 

“Elma said you’d be back tonight,” she said simply, as if that explained why he would find her in his bed, and he raised an eyebrow, “I’m sorry, I should have waited until tomorrow.”

 

“Not at all, it’s a nice surprise to find you here. A better welcome home than I was expecting,” she followed his gaze around the room and noticed for the first time that he had taken the same approach as her to interior design. The room was naked, plain, the only personal touch being a scrap of cloth over the desk that Paine knew he had ripped from the Youth League headquarters’ tent after he had disbanded the group. She wondered if, like her, he was waiting to figure out what exactly made a home. His expression was soft as he looked at her now, his usually stern features made gentle in the lamplight, and they both sat in comfortable silence as his thumb stroked her thigh.

 

“Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked softly, his voice suddenly hesitant. She gripped the blanket and lowered her eyes.

 

“I could ask you the same thing,”she whispered, “I take it the tour went well?”

 

“People were generally receptive, yes,” he shrugged his good shoulder and looked pensive, “I feel there are more apologies to give, though.”

 

“You can’t blame yourself forever,” she said simply, “The weight of Spira’s problems shouldn’t rest on one person’s shoulders.”

 

“I don’t mean out there,” his eyes were burning in to hers and she felt the familiar jolt of desire that burnt whenever they were alone together. Then, peace. Here was the missing piece of her broken heart; this man who had once loved her, despised himself and then shattered her. This man who still blamed himself for being consumed by a thousand year heartbreak. The pain always lay in losing him.

 

Nooj pushed himself up off of the bed, machina hand gripping his cane tightly. With his free hand he pulled at the buckles that held together his old Crusader uniform and Paine’s eyes widened.

 

“Nooj, what-”

 

“I’m getting ready for bed,” he said simply, “I assume there’s room for me?”

 

Paine blushed scarlet and his eyes softened, “I’m not expecting anything of you, Paine. Not tonight, not tomorrow. Of all the people in Spira, your forgiveness would be the greatest gift. Even though I know I have no right to expect it. But you’re here, and I’m tired, and right now I want nothing more than to hold you and sleep,” he looked at her earnestly, “If you’ll have me.”

 

She knew that if she left now he would understand. He would continue to treat her with respect in the morning, would continue to work to gain her trust and forgiveness. There would be no bitterness. Not any more. The risks lay in staying, in letting herself be vulnerable in his arms. She swallowed and hugged her knees.

 

“I’ve missed you,” she admitted finally, “I’m fed up of being alone. I don’t want it any more.”

 

“What do you want?” he asked softly and Paine heard the whisper of hope in his voice, “Tell me.”

 

“I want you,” she finally met his eyes and saw the relief there. The stoic mask slipping away. He shed the rest of his clothes swiftly and eased himself on to the bed next to her. She knew him well enough to know he would be in pain, the weeks of travel clearly having taken its toll on his ruined body. He sighed as he sank in the mattress and found Paine’s hand amongst the blankets. She took in the sight of him, bare chested and lips parted. Despite the scars and the machina his body always screamed strength to her; her Crimson Squad memories were punctuated by the image of his body pinning her down as he took her, his hands gripping her hips and her wrists, the memory so potent she could almost feel it.

 

She wanted to claw the memories back, to replace the ruined image of sunsets with the feeling of being held, and loved, and desired.

 

Then he pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in the crook of her neck as she melted in to him. It felt like the most natural thing in Spira to curl up in the silence with this man who she knew would spend the rest of his days trying to make amends for his sins. They were both vulnerable now; lovers drawn back together, by fate or choice she wasn’t sure, and finally she slept soundly.


End file.
